All But Consumed Him
by A Vague Shape In The Dark
Summary: Harold and Maude take a drive and chat in a cemetery. Meaningless one-shot


**Disclaimer:** I do not claim any rights to the characters in this story.  
Note to self: written while intoxicated by a pyjama clad man in a vampire movie.

* * *

Maude's auburn braids fell loose from their hairpins, and flew violently about her neck and shoulders as she made a sharp turn. Noticing, Harold lovingly took a handful of her escaping hair and rubbed his thumb across the edges of fraying strands.

She looked so happy, Harold observed, so beautiful and . . . alive. There wasn't a word for it other than Maude. So Maude. So utterly awash in the glow of life.

Caught up in the moment - the trees at each side a blur in the window, the steadiness of the car cabin, the eeriness of it - he worried he would burst if didn't kiss her.

She must have felt his eyes boring into her. "What are you thinking?" she asked without turning, her voice its typical cool melody.

"That I want to kiss you but I don't want to cause a distraction while you're driving."

Maude's smile widened. Spying a small drive in the wilderness to the side, she spun the car at an alarming rate until they were off the main road and entering a small cemetery. Stopping the car mid way up a hill, she firmly smacked the steering wheel with the palm of her hand. "Harold, what are you waiting for? I'm not driving now. Kiss me!"

Harold laughed as he crawled to her side of the seat and wrapped his arms around her, waiting a few seconds to look her over before kissing her. They embraced until they could no longer take the abuse of the steering wheel.

* * *

The dust skited from a car trailing its way across the gravel abyss in the distance, created a cloud which momentarily hovered over a field before moving on and dissipating into nothingness.

All was still as Harold surveyed the valley below. He could see no movement other than the aforementioned smoky cloud, and a few birds leaving the woods at the base of the hill. He heard Maude sigh and looked to where she sat under a willow tree. She was in a deeper pocket of the leafy curtain.

"These have always fascinated me," she said, and Harold saw that she was petting a small stone lamb affixed to a tombstone. "As a child I liked to let my fingers wander over the rough, worn stone... The fact that it was a grave meant nothing to me, and I looked forward to visiting the clearings of stones. I later came to find out graves marked with Lambs, Rabbits even, are the markings of a child's grave. It's all so fascinating. Harold, you know, how when you don't know the meanings of places, things, they can mean completely different things... Stones tell stories for those whose graves they mark. Even the flowers carved into stones have meaning. Don't think for a minute they are simply ornamental."

"You see that one over there?" She pointed to a strange tombstone shaped like a shell, the form of a sleeping baby carved inside as though a pearl. "That stands for baptism and rebirth."

"What does that mean?" Harold asked, pointing toward a draped urn.

"It stands for mourning. "

"Oh."

"All the modern ones are so run of the mill. It's a shame that people nowadays don't leave behind a story for strangers... all visitors get from a person's life, if they care to look, is a name carved in stone." She shook her head. "See, even the oldest, where the names are no longer legible leave behind a clue as to who is buried beneath, thanks to the forms carved alongside."

Harold nodded, and moved under the shelter of the leaves to sit beside her.

"That's why it's so important to create stories while you're alive. You have till the end of time to silently brood in the same place. Let your life be joy and let that joy spread to others. Don't you want to be recalled as an extraordinary moment in someone's day...? Even if they never let you know how you made them feel you are left feeling elated. It's a no lose situation! Oh, have one," she said, offering him a slice of peach. "You know, cemetaries have always made me feel welcomed. I like to think its a place where we can finally be free," she raised her shoulders then leaned back to rest on her elbows.

Harold finished the peach, his lips still sticky as he kissed her.


End file.
